


The Unfortunate Effects of Electricity on the Human Body

by cancerthecrabbo



Series: Peter Parker and All His Bumps and Bruises [1]
Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Daredevil (TV), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Bad Hospital Food, Canon Divergence, Card Games, Escape Attempts, Gen, Lots of Cursing, Major Character Injury, Medical Inaccuracies, Peter had a potty mouth, Post s01ep07, Precious Peter Parker, Pretty much saved Peter's life, Protective Team, Stubborn Peter, Superhero Puppy Pile, Surgery, Third degree burns, accelerated healing, concussion, cursing, heart failure, peter is a cinnamon roll, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 12:56:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9124732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cancerthecrabbo/pseuds/cancerthecrabbo
Summary: The fight with Zzzax did more than shock Peter a little. Regardless of high speed healing, he's in a lot of trouble. Heart failure, 3rd degree burns, and a mild concussion all add up to a really bad day. AU of sorts, directly after episode 7: "Exclusive". Iffy medical protocol, family feel-good fluff, and a nice doctor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was re-watching Ultimate Spider-Man, episode 7, and after watching 10 seasons of Grey’s Anatomy I am more aware that Peter was left unscathed, which is very odd. Zzzax is pure energy, and after being shocked by pure energy even a superhero with accelerated healing would have some symptoms of electrical shocks (not to be confused with electrocution, which is death by electric shock). So I did some research (and came across pictures of burns I didn’t want to see but I suffered through anyway) and I can’t let it go. So enjoy some whump and also probably not very accurate medical…things. It starts off near the end of the episode. 
> 
> WARNING: I AM NOT A DOCTOR. I AM NOT MEDICALLY TRAINED AND DO NOT CLAIM TO BE.

_“I won’t let you down,” Mary Jane said._

_“I know you won’t,” Spider-Man replied, watching her go.  He shot a web at a nearby building and swung off._

* * *

 

Spidey’s head hurt along with the rest of his aching, throbbing, bruised body.  The fight with Zzzax left him tired and irritated.  _What a stupid name,_ he thought as he swung off the building, bunching up and flexing his muscles.  He still had to make an oral and written report to Fury and receive whatever punishment the director was going to dish out because of his ‘inability to keep collateral damage to a minimum’. 

 

“Stupid Fury…stupid homework…at least M.J. got a good video,” he muttered angrily under his breath.  Even the soothing cold wind and the beautiful view of his hometown didn’t help his mood.  The towering skyscrapers with sunlight glinting off them usually made him feel at home but after a fight with pure energy, he just wanted to go to sleep.  His head felt like it was full of cotton and gave a particularly bad throb.  His chest hurt and his entire torso was burning like a bitch.  As soon as Peter was done with his report, he was going to take a nice long shower. 

 

The spider leaped onto SHIELD HQ, wincing as it jarred the wounds he wasn’t able to take a look at yet.  His suit felt like it was stuck to his skin and as the left over adrenaline wore off, his back hurt more and more.  Shaking off the bad feeling he had about it, he began to navigate toward Fury’s office.

 

* * *

 

“…And then Zzzax was defeated and the Hulk was let go.  So far SHIELD has no reason to apprehend the Hulk, and there are no reports on findings of Zzzax.”  Peter finished his report, feeling faint.  He rubbed at his chest and quickly stopped when it was hot to the touch.  He bit his lip to keep from yelping and waiting for Fury to dismiss him.  The director was looking at him oddly, narrowing his eyes in what _seemed_ like concern, but Spider-Man brushed off that thought as quickly as it came.  ‘Worried’ was not something that the man was, especially about Spider-Man. 

 

He spoke after a moment, “Alright Spider-Man.  You’re dismissed.  Report to the med bay for an examination ASAP.” 

 

“What? No, I’m fine.  I have to get home and do my home- er some important stuff,” the term ‘homework’ just seemed so juvenile, “Trust me, I’m good.”  Fury raised his eyebrows.  “Really, I feel great.  Like I could run a marathon.  Seriously.  I’m better than fine.”  He touched his toes as if to show that he was ‘better than fine’ and regretted it instantly.  He straightened much to quickly to seem casual, and that hurt too.  “See?  No need for med bay or anything, so I’m just gonna go…” 

 

“It wasn’t a question.” 

 

Hearing the irritated and potentially dangerous tone, Spidey deflated and turned, heading off to the med bay.  As he walked down the halls, his vision doubled and tripled.  He stumbled into the wall and rubbed his temples, letting out a groan.  _Hooray for mild concussions_ , he thought and started walking again.  His stomach flip-flopped and threatened to expel its contents all over the flawless floor but he managed to keep his measly breakfast down.  Peter practically collapsed onto the bed closest to him and waited for a doctor to help him.  His vision began to darken around the same time that a tall blonde man approached him.  He wore a white coat and dark blue scrubs and had kind green eyes.

 

“Spider-Man, right?  I’m Dr. Eric Labelle.” His voice was soft.  “Can you tell me why you’re here?”

 

“Fury sent me here after a fight with Zzzax.  Y’know, the guy that’s made out of pure energy,” he sounded bitter even to himself.

 

“Sounds fun,” he said with a sympathetic smile.  “Let’s get you checked out.”  Eric asked him questions like ‘Are you allergic to any medication’ or ‘How many walls were you thrown through or at’.  Peter got the feeling that walls were the source of many wounds on many battered superheroes.  He poked and prodded and checked and double-checked everything including his vitals, his accelerated healing rate, his coordination, and had two different consultants.  They murmured and speculated about a lot of things that Peter didn’t really understand and used long words and many acronyms.  His heartbeat was checked and checked again and recorded.  Eric looked worried after a while and decided it was time to peel off the suit and send him to his room.

 

“Take off your suit, please.”  Normally, Spidey would make a joke about wanted to be asked to dinner first, but exhaustion dragged him down, and he had an essay to write.  So he pulled at his suit and heard a ripping noise.  Looking down, he saw that instead of pulling on it, he’d begun to rip it.  Sighing, he ignored the doctor raising his eyebrows and trying not to laugh as he held a standard hospital gown.  He pulled the two flaps of fabric apart.  Then, he reached his waist, pulled and 

 

Ow. _Ow._

 

Pain exploded where he met resistance and traveled up through the rest of his body, leaving his fingertips tingling.  His vision turned white and he tried to muffle his scream by biting his lip hard.  Sure, he had regrets that he thought about but never before had he so sorely wished he hadn’t done something.  When he had pulled on his suit, it felt like he was pulling on his skin.  _Oh god,_ he thought, _did it…?_ He wasn’t able to fully develop his train of thought through the pain and encroaching darkness that threatened to swallow him up.  Peter tasted blood and heard Dr.Labelle calling for the burn squad.  His chest suddenly felt like it was being crushed, and he fell back onto the cool sheets under him.  Labelle lunged forward and felt for a pulse.

 

“I need a crash cart in here, now!”  The world around him fell away until it was just him and the doctor, and even that faded away until the sweet release of the darkness took him.  On the other hand, Dr. Labelle was running every single piece of information he knew about burns through his mind.  Thinking quickly, he laced his fingers together, placing his hands on top of each other and started to pump the superhero’s chest.  Counting in his head, he looked over to the nurses.  He ordered them to charge up the defibrillator and yelled, “Clear!”  Spidey’s chest heaved up, but there was no change.  “Charge again,” he shocked the superhero again, waiting for a rhythm.  He stared up at the holographic screen and was able to breathe again when it showed a stable pulse.* However, Spider-Man was still unconscious.

 

_Alright_ , Labelle thought to himself, _if Spidey fought with pure energy then he must have gotten shocked.  That explains the ventricular fibrillation.  The other effect of electrical shock is burning because of electrical resistance.  Judging from his reaction when he tried to take off his suit near the waist, he has severe burns and his suit melted to the skin._ Rubbing his face, he realized that the arachnid’s chest had what looked like deep second degree burns.  He turned toward the nurses hovering around Spider-Man and said, “Let’s run some tests, see if his accelerated healing did its job.  Someone alert Dr.Arren that we have a burn victim and he’ll need to do a skin graft.”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

* * *

 

Sam, Ava, Danny, and Luke were coming back from training when a small group of nurses almost barreled into them.  Luke snagged the last one and almost regretted it once he saw the angry, disbelieving look on him.  Another nurse, a woman that was presumably his friend, stayed behind with him.

 

“Uh, what the hell are you doing?  I need to go.  I’m a nurse,” the man said, speaking slowly as if talking to a child.  He seemed to not care if the person he was talking to was two and a half heads taller than him and had super strength.

 

“We’re trying to save lives,” his friend said.

 

Danny tried to defuse the situation, “ _We_ apologize,” he shot a look at Luke, “We were just curious as to why you were running, friends.”

 

The woman’s expression softened a bit and the man’s eyebrows rose.  They both winced but only the woman spoke this time, “I’m Ally and this is Tyler.  We were called to the OR to assist on operation on a superhero…”  She trailed off and looked hesitant.

 

“Well?  Which superhero?”  Sam prompted.  Ava elbowed him in the side but kept her eyes on the two nurses.

 

“Spider-Man.”

 

For a moment or two, it was utterly silent.  Then the irrational teenage side of the superheroes took over and they began to talk (more accurately yelled) over each other.

 

“What the _hell_ did he do this time I swear-“

 

“-us where is the spider right n-“

 

“- you sure you’re operating on Web Head-“

 

“-ell me you’re joking or I swear I’ll-“

 

“ _Alright!_ If you would just be quiet, mature adults,” Tyler said, not knowing that they were all still in high school, “We can lead you to the waiting room where I believe that Dr.Labelle will be able to tell you what you want to know.”  The four teens looked at each other and decided, as a team, that this was the best course of action.

 

“Lead us to this Labelle person,” Ava said, looking grim but determined.  The nurses nodded and turned back where they had originally been heading, walking quickly and purposefully.  Despite the trip being relatively short, it felt like hours to the young superheroes.  Navigating the steel passages seemed to take much too long and left too much time to think.  They were all worried and panicking slightly, hoping for the best but not ready to prepare for the worst.

 

Spider-Man was strong, even if he was still in school.  Even if he still lived with his aunt.  Then again, that was precisely why he was so powerful.  His parents were gone at such a young age and his uncle died a tragic, sudden death.  Regardless of all his loses, Spidey had managed to stay a good person.  A _great_ person.  He saved the lives of people that hated him and gracefully ignored the angry jabs that Jameson made at him.  His loyalty was both his strength and his downfall.  He wanted to save everyone and couldn’t stand to lose a single person whether they are good or bad.  It was a miracle Peter hadn’t gotten himself killed.  Even if he was still alive, he made a lot of enemies.  Dangerous enemies that, unlike him, didn’t give a flying rat’s ass whether or not they killed innocent people.  In fact, a lot of the baddies that seemed to love to go after the spider are particularly assassin-y.  Stupid Web Head had to go and be a hero and make enemies.  Thankfully, he also made very good friends to _keep_ him strong.

 

That is precisely why hearing that he was in surgery was so jarring.  It felt like someone had whipped the floor out from under their feet.  Everything that happened after Ally had said that Spider-Man, _their_ Spidey, was in surgery was surreal.  Like a bad fever dream that they couldn’t wake up from.  That feeling only got worse when they arrived at the barren waiting room that had an unforgiving vibe.  There was a tall, skinny, and blonde doctor waiting there.  He turned toward the stoic heroes and nurses (there was no real difference, one group wore spandex and the other scrubs, but they both saved lives) and gave a tired smile. 

 

“Hello.  I’m Dr.Labelle and I’ll be operating on Spider-Man soon…I’m guessing you’re his team?  I’m also guessing that you have questions.  Go ahead.”  In hindsight, that was not a very smart decision.  It merely began a barrage of rapid-fire questions.

 

“What’s wrong with Spi-“

 

“- serious?  Of course it is, it’s surgery-“

 

“-o you require any spiritual assist-“

 

“Not again,” groaned Ally.

 

“Again?”  Asked Eric.  Tyler nodded and sighed and prepared to yell over the cacophony that showed how worried the team was.  However, it wasn’t necessary when White Tiger managed to shut up the endless questions after realizing that it was getting them nowhere.  She threatened to step on Luke’s feet again when he tried to speak and had the decency to look guilty.

 

“Sorry.  We’re just…worried.”

 

“It’s fine, I know how scary surgery can sound, but I can assure you that this one has a very low risk.  We’ll just be checking out his burns and doing some skin grafts.  No, it isn’t that serious, but that’s only because our main issue is the fact that the shocks caused ventricular fib…rill…”  Eric trailed off when he realized that only the nurses seemed to understand a word he was saying.  Backtracking, he explained, “Spider-Man and the Hulk faced off against a villain named Zzzax, a being of pure energy.  Over the course of the fight Spider-Man was shocked electrically, which made the muscles in his heart move independently instead of together.  This is called ventricular fibrillation.  Luckily, his accelerated healing and heightened general stamina along with the fact that his body was in shock kept him alive and awake until pain triggered a pulse that was irregular on a higher scale than before.  The pain was caused when he attempted to pull off his suit because it was melted into his skin at the waist.  Spider-Man has 2nd degree to 3rd degree burns on his entire torso and 1st degree burns on his fists, presumably from punching Zzzax.” 

 

The superheroes stayed quiet after his spiel until Iron Fist spoke up, “Thank you, Dr.Labelle.”  His friends nodded and stood awkwardly for a moment until Nova went to sit on the bench, rubbing his temples. 

 

“I have to go now, but I’ll keep you updated.”  Luke nodded and sat next to Sam, with Danny at his right and Ava on Sam’s left.  The nurses and Eric turned toward the OR and stepped in, shutting the door behind them with a _click_.

 

* * *

 

Honestly, after the first four hours, Eric had expected the superheroes to disperse.  But no, they were all still outside, sitting huddled close together on the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room.  It was getting pretty late, and he was only halfway through the operation.  Spider-Man had held strong throughout the entire time, pulse steady and the rest of his vitals looking good.  Thankfully his superhuman healing had kept his heart from giving out again.  In fact, the muscle seemed relatively healthy and allowed Labelle and Joshua Arren, the plastics specialist, to repair the damage done by the suit melting with the skin and dress the 2nd degree burns.  Again, Spidey’s healing would save him from another usually inevitable side effect of electrical burns.  Scars.

 

A normal human being, or even a superhero that lacked accelerated healing, would have huge scars where the 3rd degree burns were: across his back and circling his thin waist.  The skin would usually contract and tighten where the burn is and left the victim with possible inabilities to move in certain ways.  Plus, healing usually takes eight weeks, or more, but Peter was most likely going to be healed in half the time.  In fact, his hands were completely healed.  Unfortunately, his healing factor would not be quick enough to save him from the pain, itching, and tingling that came with burns.

 

Eric stretched his neck and put down his tools, turning away from the vulnerable spider to report to the team outside.  The clock read 12:16, the numbers staring at him and threatening to make the aches in his joints noticeable but he shook off his exhaustion and opened the door to the waiting room.  He opened his mouth to give a short yet informative report but stopped as he took in the scene before him.  The team of superheroes were leaning against each other the previously unused and stiff benches, fast asleep.  They looked as though they hadn’t meant to fall asleep, seeing as they were sitting up.  The doctor gave a small smile before retreating back into the operating room and getting back to work.

 

* * *

 

Peter Parker was having a shit day.  Even hovering between being conscious and floating in the warm darkness of sleep, he knew that his day had gone worse than usual.  That was saying quite a lot because any normal day was a crap day, but judging by the dull fire licking at his back and waist and the throbbing in his temples that became sharper and sharper, it had been especially bad.  That’s why he tried to fall back under the gentle waves of sleep that were pulling away from him against his will.  Sighing internally, he decided to take on being awake slowly and acknowledged each sense one at a time. 

 

His mouth tasted like yesterday’s scrambled eggs and apple juice and generally like morning breath. 

 

He could hear soft chatter.  The voices sounded familiar and comforting to him.  A heart monitor beeped in his ears and there was a faint _drip drop_ somewhere to his left.

 

 Peter could vaguely smell disinfectant and Danny’s incense.  The smell of freshly washed sheets and medicine wafted up into his nose.

 

 His fingers brushed said sheets, which were soft, and his aching head was on a soft pillow.  Cool air, probably from the air conditioner, brushed his forehead.  He could feel his mask still on and a hospital gown.  It was no doubt an odd combination.  He could feel gauze all over his chest and back.

 

 Opening his eyes was a small battle within itself, but he managed to make them flutter open seconds after he heard someone (Sam?) say ‘I think he’s waking up.’  The moment his eyes focused, pain washed over him and made him snap his eyes closed, eyebrows scrunching.  His waist burned and so did his back, but it also itched like a bitch ( _Hey, that rhymed_ , thought the part of his mind that wasn’t momentarily overwhelmed with agony).  In fact, his entire torso hurt, but to a lesser extent.  The difference wasn’t all that big, though.  Thankfully after a moment it died down to a manageable level.  He opened his eyes again and saw that his team was hovering over him.

 

 “Welcome back to the world of the living,” Luke said.

 

 “Uuuuurgh,” Peter replied ever so eloquently.  There was some shuffling to his left, fabric on fabric, and then the gentle dripping of what he now knew was his IV became quicker.

 

 "Does that feel better?”  Asked Dr.Labelle after he adjusted the dosage.

 

 “Uh, yeah.  What happened after…um…?”  It was difficult to remember what happened before he fell into the deep sleep he was longing for at the moment.  His hand, the one without the arm that had the IV, came up to rub his temples.  Then it all came back, the fight with Zzzax and the unfathomable pain when he tried to take off his suit.  “Oh!  What happened after I passed out, Dr.Labelle?”

 

“Okay first, don’t call me Dr.Labelle, it makes me feel old.  Eric is fine,” Spider-Man smiled from behind his mask, “Well, Spider-Man, your suit melted into your skin at the waist,” Peter shuddered, “And when you tugged on it, the pain caused your already irregular pulse to go completely haywire.  You hadn’t realized the extent of your injuries because you were in shock.  Once I got a stable heartbeat, I called our plastics specialist to help with skin grafting.”  Spidey lay there for a moment and processed the information.  Then he got restless and folded his elbows under him and tried to sit up.  He got about ¼ of the way there before his arms gave out and a strip of skin wrapping around his lower torso screamed at him to stop.  Seeing stars, he flopped back onto the bed.  “Whoa!  You could just _ask_ for help once in a while.”

 

“Don’t count on it,” said Ava.

 

“He has some issues with help,” agreed Luke.  Danny nodded, too.

 

“It’s really annoying,” complained Sam.

 

Peter sighed, “Thanks guys, I’m really feeling the love.  Now will you help me sit up?”  Danny and Luke reached out and gently helped him lean back on the fluffy pillows behind him.  He nodded in thanks and breathed out, trying to get the fire across his back to die down.  “How long do I have to stay here?”

 

“As long as Eric says so, Spider-Man.”  The stern voice of Director Fury cut in.  Everyone in the room turned toward the door, where said director was leaning.

 

“But-”

 

“’But’ nothing.”

 

“No, ‘but’ something.  What do I tell my aunt?  What about school?  And patrol!”  Eric raised his eyebrows.  He’d never met someone who talked back to Fury, but the man didn’t seem angry enough to reverse all of the work the healer put into the spider-themed hero.

 

Fury didn’t look amused. “Spider-Man, who do you think I am?  I’ll have some agents take care of it.”

 

“Yeah, Spidey, seriously.  What are we, chopped liver?”  Ava said.  “We can handle patrol until you’re running on all cylinders.”  Peter looked as if he wanted to say something stupid like ‘I can’t let you do that’.  Or _something_ all guilt-ridden and hero-y.  He has a guilt complex bigger than the Tricarrier, after all, which was also why his loyalty was so deadly.  Despite this, he kept his mouth shut relaxed into his pillows.  He had a soft, medicated smile on him and his eyes were beginning to wander the room.

 

“Alright.  Okay.  Just promise to check dark alleys for muggers and stuff.”  He relented.  The team looked surprised and maybe a little concerned, but Peter’s painkillers were really kicking in now.  They were pretty strong and if he had to guess they were also paired with a sedative.  So, he lay down on his side to avoid rubbing the burn on his back.  He faced the doctor, Fury, and his team. 

 

And then he took off his mask.  The room was deathly silent.  Eric clenched his eyes shut after a second.

 

“Whoa!  Warn a man, would you?”  Said Labelle.

 

“Yew c’n call meee…Peter,” he slurred.  _These are great_ , he thought, referring to the painkillers.

 

“Are you sure there’s no brain damage?”  Someone asked but Peter couldn’t see, he’d closed his eyes.  Wait, when did he do that? 

 

“Yes, certain.”  Was that Eric?  Probably.  It sounded like him.  Maybe.

 

Spidey’s eyes fluttered open and he waved his hand around languidly.  He almost knocked something over.  “Ish fine.  I trusht yew.”  At that moment, Ally and Tyler decided to bustle in, probably to check on their patient.  Upon entering the room, they both saw that Peter was without his mask.  Tyler’s shriek was muffled by Ally’s hand when she slapped it on his face and used the other one to cover his eyes.  She’d snapped her eyes closed and grinned nervously and started to back out of the room.

 

“Heh.  Sorry.  We’ll- uh- be back,” she said.  She stopped when she heard the very, very medicated Peter laughing.

 

“Wah- whatever…ish okeh.  I don’ mind.” 

  
“Uh huh.  Well, if I may interrupt, I didn’t come to visit Spider-Man,” said Fury, “SHIELD and Stark teamed up to develop a new suit for you, same design but it’ll help keep you from… _melting_ again.”  This prompted another round of giggling from Spidey.  When he came back down, he would be _so_ embarrassed.  But, not worried.  After all the doctor and nurses present saved his life. 

 

“Okie dokie.”  His eyes closed again, so he couldn’t see who snickered but it was probably everyone.  He was asleep again in no time, not allowing the nurses to process anything,

 

He did, though, give his team the opportunity to turn toward the medically trained people in the room.  The four teens loomed over them menacingly.

 

Ava was the first to speak, “You three know what this means right? Knowing Spidey’s identity?”  Her claws twitched.

 

Sam followed up, “Spidey’s trust is hard-earned and it took us a looong time to loosen him up.”  His glare was undeterred by his helmet.

 

“So, you had _better_ take care of him.  Don’t make our hard work for nothing,” Luke said.  He flexed his arms subtly.

 

Danny’s hands glowed slightly, “Or we will have to exact our revenge.”  Tyler and Ally looked about ready to pass out but Eric just smiled softly at them.  Seeing the intense protectiveness that the team possessed reassured him that he wouldn’t be seeing Peter as a patient any time soon. 

 

“You don’t have to worry.  I’ll do my absolute best to heal him if he ever needs it.”  As a group, they turned toward the nurses who frantically nodded.  Satisfied that they’d gotten their message across, the 4 heroes turned back toward their sleeping friend.  They sat around his bed and starting talking in low tones.  Labelle shuffled out of the room with the nurses in tow and shut the door quietly.

 

Outside, the nurses slumped against each other.  “Holy crap,” said Tyler, “They’re frickin’ terrifying!”

 

“I don’t know, I think they’re just _really_ fond of Spidey.”

 

Inside, Sam, Danny, Ava, and Luke all were keeping a close eye on the spider they surrounded.

 

“He really is an idiot, isn’t he?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter thinks over his decision to reveal himself to Dr.Labelle, Tyler, and Amy.

Peter Parker has woken up to mornings just like this one many a time.  His entire body ached with a bone-deep soreness, but that was only the start of it.  There were two stripes of skin on him, one across his back and the other that traveled around his waist that felt like they were on fire.  The doctors had told him that they were 3rd degree burns and on top of that they were surrounded but deep 2nd degree burns.  However this information eluded him in the few moments that he was encased in a lovely little cocoon of left over grogginess.  Opening his eyes, he looked around the room and tried to remember just how he’d gotten in it.  Above him hovered a large holographic screen with what he presumed was his vitals and blood pressure.  There was a white nightstand to his right with a cup of water and a drab little lamp.  In fact, the entire room was drab.  Thankfully there were some decorations that Peter guessed were brought by his friends-

 

_Oh dear lord_.

 

Everything that had happened last time he was conscious slammed into his brain, but the most pressing memory was of him making a fool of himself and simultaneously revealing his identity to Eric Labelle and two nurses.  Of course it was all hazy because of strong painkillers and sedatives that had messed him up enough to unintentionally endanger three innocent people.  Well, sort of.  Peter was half aware of what he was doing.  Dr.Labelle had earned his trust quickly.  With the blatant lack of spidey-sense combined with his quiet charisma allowed Spidey to determine that this was a man he could confide in.  He wasn’t so much regretting it as he feared the confrontation that was bound to happen sometime soon.  He was still Eric’s patient. 

 

All Peter could do presently was take in the room he was bound to trapped in for an indefinite amount of time.  He was still staring at the “gifts” from his team.  There were little plushies of each of the superheroes.  Along with the toys there was a little box of chocolates in the shape of a heart with a little note that said _Spidey, don’t eat these yet.  Nova kept sneaking them in even though I told him you can’t have chocolate,_ and below that, _DON’T LISTEN TO HIM SPIDEY EAT THEM ALL_.   Smiling, he looked over at the cup of water with longing.  He didn’t want to try and drink it laying down but at the moment sitting up sounded impossible.  He let out a long, suffering groan and practically dragged himself up.  The pillows he rested on were already positioned so that he would comfortable lying down or sitting.  Peter gave himself a minute to let the pain die down and reached over to the nightstand.  He sighed as the cool water soothed his dry, itchy throat.

 

_Urgh_ , he thought.  _What am I going to do about my spectacular identity reveal?  Maybe I could run away to the circus.  They’d love a spider man._   Then he realized that he’d have to shovel elephant shit and that wasn’t something he was willing to do.  That and the fact that every time Peter thought of quitting the hero business, his Uncle Ben’s face would remind him of his responsibility.  He sighed again but this time heavier as he put the cup back in the nightstand and rubbed his face.  His responsibility seemed to crush him, resting square on his shoulders and stifling him.  It made his lungs hurt as he struggled to breathe and he felt like lying down forever and punching something at the same time.  Back to the problem at hand, though, he’d put three more people in danger.  What if Doc Oc or some other baddie went after them to try and figure out his name?  A thousand more what-if’s ran through his mind and left him nauseated.

 

Despite this, Peter wasn’t sure he wouldn’t do exactly what he did if given another chance.  Dr.Labelle was a good man and he had a good feeling about the nurses for some reason.  Wiggling back on his side, he realized just how tired he was.  _I better not be out of shape_ , he thought to himself.  He pressed his cheek to the pillow and decided to leave it for another day.  All he could do is rest up and try not to freak out or embarrass himself again.  As Peter fell asleep, he focused on the good feeling that Eric and the nursed brought about.  It felt good to have more people to confide in.

 

All he could do is hope nothing goes horribly wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter tries to escape the med bay multiple times. Key word: tries. Some superheroes join in to keep him in.

Ally West was having a hard day.  Spider-Man, a superhumanly strong teen, was trying to get back to New York to take down some baddies that just wasn’t ready to fight.  Tyler Gray, her best friend, was currently assisting on a really cool (Ally is not a child, it’s just _really cool_ ) surgery with the head of neurology, Dr.Riley.  So she had to deal with Peter Parker.  Oh yeah, speaking of which, the superhero had revealed his identity in all his higher-than-the-empire-state-building glory.   He was now giving Ally a wonderful headache because he just won’t _sit down_. 

 

On the other hand, Peter didn’t want to sit down.  He had people to save.  Honestly, Peter was fine.  He was perfectly healthy and was _not_ in pain nor was he dizzy and weak from lying down for so long.  Seriously.  His burns didn’t get infected and he wasn’t feeling the side-effects at all.    His stomach wasn’t flip-flopping and there was no throbbing in his temples.

 

“ _I’m fine!_ ”  Peter yelled.

 

“YOU LITERALLY THREW UP THREE MINUTES AGO!”  Ally yelled back.  For a young genius rivaling Tony Stark’s intelligence, he was being pretty stupid right now.

 

“I need to go!  I need to protect my city!”

 

“There are countless other heroes out there right now!”

 

“I _saw_ Captain America walking down the hall with a bagel in his hand!”

 

“Ah…he’s having a…small break?”

 

“Ally, please.”

 

“No.  You have to rest.  Sit down or I will get Luke!  Or _Nova!_ ”

 

Peter gasped.  He narrowed his eyes and hissed, “You _wouldn’t_.”

 

“Try me you little bug!”  She placed a firm hand on his chest and pushed him back onto his bed.  He huffed and sighed and pouted but he knew Ally was a strong woman.  “I’m going to go get some tea.”  Ally loved tea.  She knew all types and had a tea for any sort of ailment.  Headaches, nausea, stress, anything.  She didn’t have a tea for ‘feeling like my insides are rotting’, though.  Peter could get pretty creative with his complaints.

 

Peter watched the nurse exit the room and listened for her steps to fade.  He grinned when she was sure she was gone.  He rolled out of his bed and pulled off the damned hospital gown and tugged on the new suit from Stark.  It fit like a glove, perfectly suited to his body, which was a bit questionable but he chose to ignore that.  He pressed his hand to the wall, then his foot and swung himself up.  He stopped and breathed shallowly, his stomach protesting and his head spinning.  When the dizzy spell passed and he no longer was in danger of throwing up, he quietly crawled across the roof locked the door from the inside.  His body was still recuperating but that didn’t matter.  Not when there’s people to save, people that needed Spider-Man. 

 

He went as slow as possible and tried to keep the metal from giving away his position.  It was dusty and cold but his ticket out into New York.  He rounded the corner and saw Hawkeye sitting there, playing with the little computer on his glove.  Just sitting there, nice and in full gear, arrows and all.  He looked over at Peter when he got around the corner. 

 

“Hey Spidey.  Nice day for sneaking around, huh?”  He said.

 

“I’m going to have to ask you to move, Hawkeye.” 

 

“Not gonna happen.  That feisty nurse, Ally something, told me you’d try to escape and then she told me that if I didn’t keep you here she’d do something involving my arrows and my eyes.”  Peter’s dizziness reached its crescendo out of frustration directed toward the nurse.  Seeing this, Hawkeye said, “You better not throw up in here.”  Spidey glared at the archer and curled up by him, trying not to lose his (admittedly terrible) breakfast.  Clint patted him on the side and waited for him to crawl back into his hospital room. 

 

The moment he threw his uniform back into the chair it had been on previously, Ally walked into the room.  Thankfully, he’d unlocked the door and had thrown the sheets over himself.  She walked in with a triumphant smile and two cups of tea in her hand.

 

“That’s a good little spider.”

 

* * *

 

_Okay…escape from this stupid room take two_ , Peter thought.  It was late, now, and all the hospital staff was either turning in or checking on other patients.  He was left alone for a bit, so he takes the opportunity to create a plan and act on it as soon as possible.  It was half-baked of course so he knew it might not work out but Peter couldn’t take one more hour in this room thinking of how many people needed help when he wasn’t there.  He could imagine Jameson spitting with fury and calling him out for not being there, for not saving people with his freak powers.  Or something stupid like that, contradicting all his previous statements that Spider-Man is a menace.

 

So he pulled on his suit over his healing skin and tried not to wince as it rubbed up against half-healed burns. 

 

The plan was simple enough, Spidey just had to crawl onto the ceiling and be as quiet as possible.  As far as he knew, no nurse, doctor, or even any agent had super senses.  Superheroes weren’t really known for hanging around SHIELD HQ in the middle of the night.  It would be a piece of cake to get through the med bay and out into New York to finally do his job.  Without a sound, he opened the door and stepped out.  Looking from right to left, he deemed it safe, and closed the door.  He crawled onto the wall and moved onto the ceiling, breathing slowly and carefully.  He strained his ears for any sound either from him or anyone else that could happen across the hallway.  The silence around him buzzed loudly and his head started to hurt from the exertion.  After lying in bed for a week with serious injuries, crawling across the ceiling for 10 minutes tired him.  That was exactly why he had to get out and get back to full strength.  No one could seem to understand that, not his friends or even other heroes.

 

Peter turned a corner and almost choked on his spit when he saw Black Widow standing in the middle of the hallway.  On the floor, of course.  He stared at her and she stared back, daring him to keep moving.  He opted to try and talk his way out instead.

 

“Hey, Nat.  How’s it goin’?  Good?  Yeah, me too, I’m great.  I…have to go pee.  Yeah, I need to use the restroom so I’ll be going, now, bye.”  He said rapidly.  _Smooth, Parker, smooth_ , he thought to himself.

 

“You know as well as I do that if you take one more step you’ll wake up in that hospital room wondering why your head hurts so badly, Spidey, so I suggest you turn back and use the bathroom in your room.”  She said sweetly, smiling up at him.  The blood drained from his face as he began to slowly crawl backwards toward the room.

 

* * *

 

Peter sat cross legged on his bed, poking at the bland block of chicken (?) on his plate.  His stomach growled again but he couldn’t make himself take a bite out of whatever the hell it was Tyler brought him.

 

“Just eat it, oh my God.”  Tyler said, exasperated.  Ally told him to sit in the room until Peter finished it because the sickness from infection had gotten _worse_ somehow (it was Peter’s fault; the overexertion from trying to escape took a toll on him).  This meant his nausea had gotten stronger, so if he was unsupervised Peter would cut up the food and flush it down the toilet.  Ally only knew this because she’d caught him in the act and almost slapped him upside the head until she realized that would go against her oath to do no harm. 

 

“It’s disgusting.  And I’ll just throw it up if I eat it.”  Peter mumbled.  He hated the way his stomach rebelled and how his whole body felt weak after a round of vomiting.  Tyler sighed and backed off.  Seeing his hero like this was sort of terrifying.  He was tired, sick, and pale.  However, that just meant that Tyler had to do his best to get him back on his feet.

 

“All right.  I’ll come back later with hopefully  better food, maybe from the outside, but you better sleep while I get it, okay?”

 

Peter’s face brightened. “Okay.  Thanks, Tyler.”

 

“It’s no problem.”  _You’ve saved New York countless times_ , he thought.  Tyler knew if he mentioned it Peter would deny it vehemently, so he held it back.

 

The moment the door clicked into place, Peter sprang from the bed and tossed the hospital gown onto the chair, and then quickly pulled on a pair of pants, a shirt, socks, and his shoes.  He grabbed a duffle bag with his suit in it and opened the door quietly.  All last night he had been plotting and planning and making sure he would get out this time.  He would simply walk out of his room and make himself look like a regular guy, not a wall-crawling superhero, so that he could slip out undetected. Peter smiled to himself and shoved his hands into his pockets, walking down the hallway he couldn’t seem to escape.  Keeping his head down, he stared at his shoes and tried not to break into a run.

 

Just as he rounded the last corner and saw the doors out of the med bay, an arm shot out and twisted him around, then draped itself over his shoulder.  The body it was attached to began to walk forward, in the direction of Peter’s room, which forced him to walk with it.  The body was actually Matt Murdock, defense attorney by day, Daredevil by night.  The blind vigilante was currently in his civvies though so he wore a semi-formal suit and his red glasses along with a grin. 

 

“Hello, Peter.”  He said.  (After an incident involving Matt getting shot and Peter having to drag him to his house and call his friends Claire and Foggy, the two heroes exchanged names, addresses, and blood type.  Just in case it happened again.  After that, they’d bonded as both civilians and vigilantes, and became good friends.)*

 

“Hey Matty, how are ya?”  He said, trying to dig his heels into the floor and stop moving, but the man was _strong_. 

 

“Oh, I’m great, a little stabbed but Claire took care of that.  On the other hand, I hear you’re a bit crispy after a battle with… Zap? Zack?”

 

“Zzzax.  Stupid name, I know, but I need to go this way…”  He trailed off when Matt started patting his hair. 

 

“No, you need to rest and I swear I will pick you up right now if you don’t start walking.”  Peter groaned and did as he was told.  He swatted Matt’s hand away from his head and crossed his arms. 

 

“This is ridiculous,” he said petulantly.  Despite this, he leaned his head on the lawyer’s shoulder.  The vomiting took a toll on him and now his eyes were drooping, a yawn building in his chest.

 

“You’ll get out soon if you stop trying to escape,” Matt reassured.  Then it all went to hell, because he had loosened his grip on the teen which prompted said teen to twist out of his hold and run down the hallway.  “Oh Christ.”  He sent a quick apologetic prayer and took off after Peter, abandoning his cane.  He quickly caught up because even though there were literal stitches in his side he’d been out and about, punching thugs and such, unlike Spidey.  Skidding to a stop in front of the teen, he grinned when he heard a quiet ‘oh no’ from him as he crashed into Matt.  However, the older man remained steady as he scooped up Peter in a fireman hold, draping him over his shoulder.

 

“I hate you.”

 

“No you don’t.”

 

* * *

 

After an entire week of not trying to escape, everyone (Ally, Tyler, his team, Dr.Labelle) thought that Peter had given up.  He was still refusing hospital food and generally acting like a child, but he stopped trying to get out.  So their security on him loosened and they let their guard down.  Unfortunately for them, it was all part of the plan.  Even if Peter wasn’t at full capacity, he could probably take on a superhero if he just rested.  So he lay in bed for a whole seven days and built up strength for his final (albeit desperate) scramble for freedom.

 

As soon as Dr.Labelle was done with his check up and his friends were sent off because visiting hours were over, he got geared up.  Checking his web shooters were full one last time, he stepped out of the hospital room with his head held high.  He walked down the hallway, nodding at passing agents and ignoring suspicious glances from other nurses.  The doors were almost in sight. No one stood between him. 

 

Until he spotted a row of superheroes in front of the doors.  He saw Captain America, Black Widow, Iron Man, Hawkeye, Scarlet Witch, Ant Man, Vision, Bruce Banner, Bucky Barnes, War Machine, Falcon, Thor, Deadpool, and Daredevil.  Matt, Wade, Thor, Vision, and Scott were engaged in a deadly-looking game of Uno.  Wanda, Clint, Natasha, and Bruce were placing bets on who was going to win.  Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Rhodey were chatting amiably and sipping coffee.

 

“Holy shit.  This is my life.  _This_ is my life.  Why?”  Peter muttered to himself.  “Jesus fuck.”

 

Matt turned and scowled at him, “Don’t curse, Petey.” 

 

“Fuck. Shit.  Hell.”  Matt laughed and went back to his game.  The entire row of superheroes looked unaffected by his foul language and his presence in general.  Peter ripped his mask off and screamed into it.  “This is my life, huh.”

 

“Come here, Man of Spiders!  Play this game of cards with us.”  Thor said, waving him over with a wide smile.  Peter complied and shuffled over, grumbling and groaning.  He flopped down in between Wade and Scott.

 

“Hey kiddo.”  Scott said.  Peter face-palmed violently and accepted his cards.

 

The entire afternoon and evening was spent like that, Peter gradually getting too tired to remain angry and joining in on the activities.  He played some card games (all with Braille for Matt), drank some (decaf) coffee, and attempted to perform yoga.  He conversed with Steve and Nat, tried to explain toasters and cars to Thor, played patty cake with Wanda.  He scratched ‘have Scott Lang crawl around on his webs’ off his bucket list along with arm wrestling with Bucky.  By the time it was midnight and the nurses had given up on shooing the other heroes out and Peter into bed, his team had joined in on the fun.  He was exhausted but happy for the first time in weeks.  He ended up falling asleep against Deadpool’s shoulder (against the recommendations of the entire Avengers) after changing into his civvies.

 

In the end, he had to stay an extra week in the med bay after tiring himself out so much. 

 

Whatever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I will be making a crossover for Daredevil and Spider-man detailing just how Matty got shot :> (oh god no not another story I have so many more to continue ohhh no)

**Author's Note:**

> I know that he’s been shocked worse before and will be shocked a lot worse later on in the series but I chose this episode…so whatevs.
> 
>  
> 
> * I am not a doctor. I am not a doctor. Don’t take my word for anything.


End file.
